


there will be tears

by ursa



Series: cracklings [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crack, Gen, derek cries, self-indulgent crack, this fic crash and burns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 01:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ursa/pseuds/ursa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Let it be known that Derek Hale has the worst crying face ever.</p><p> </p><p>  <sub>an ode to wee baby hoechlin's crying face</sub></p>
            </blockquote>





	there will be tears

**Author's Note:**

> because road to perdition, crying bb hoechlin with a single tear, and feels.
> 
> this will crash and burn.

Let it be known that Derek Hale has the worst crying face ever. It’s not his fault really, considering that he was born with that face, that type of facial configuration which only seems to have two settings- exasperated and pissed off. So it’s quite a surprise when Derek just simply breaks down one night after a rather uneventful day with full on face faucets and all Scott could do is stare at him, gaping like a fish out of water. It’s as if a dam broke and the guy just can’t keep himself together anymore. It’s ugly. It really is. Scott can’t stop staring.

He keeps sobbing and there are tears, actual salty water streaming down his face, and his almost full-grown beard turning sticky by the second. Yes, Scott thinks it’s getting stickier by the second because apparently Derek does not know how to use Kleenex while bawling and there is snot smearing his face as he tries to keep his face from contorting in that really horrid way that may or may not look constipated. Scott was not expecting this to happen. Nope, not at all, especially considering the fact that he doesn’t really know what triggered this sudden and horrifyingly traumatic breakdown.

Crying alpha werewolves are very traumatizing okay.

There may have been a trigger, somewhat. Maybe it was what Scott said (or what Derek smelled on him, fuck if he knows) but it’s definitely something Scott cannot handle, something Scott knows that is beyond him. The full grown man in front of him is currently curled up into himself, hiccups wracking his body to give way to a series of keening sounds. It’s giving Scott the jitters and he can’t seem to snap out of this trance. Derek crying has officially stumped Scott. Maybe this is the most obvious way Derek can express his frustration and frankly, Scott doesn’t know if it’s because of him, the others, or it’s just simply Derek going I-can’t.

Scott tries to step forward but he barely manages to make a bodily twitch and the keening sound turns into really manly wailing. The sounds are grating on his ears to be honest but he’s really too stunned to react any more right now. He swallows the lump that formed in his throat and this is now beyond uncomfortable. Derek isn’t even showing signs of stopping- he just keeps curling more into himself, every tremble in his body accompanied by a shuddering whimper. Scott is gritting his teeth so tight now, lips curled back, flabbergasted at the state of Derek’s piteous form. He’s torn between bolting out of there and approaching Derek, tears and snot be damned. Running away seems like a great option but he doesn’t feel like getting chased by his own guilt. Huh.

“Derek I-“

And yep, that’s a wail right there. There are no words. Just, the horrid and terrible crying sound of a drowning kitten; Scott feels some déjà vu going on, he distinctly remembers how he sounded like when he and Stiles baited the then unknown alpha. Who, apparently is, Peter. Who is at the moment, MIA. Which sucks terribly since he’s supposed to be here. Even Isaac is supposed to be here and neither of them are and Scott is now very confused, so utterly discombobulated. This right here is not his responsibility. Derek is not his alpha.

The guy is still pathetically sobbing in front of him. Scott now feels gutted knowing that ignoring that tiny notion in his head that he actually caused this has come too far. He steps forward again, with the same hesitation as before. Derek is definitely drowning on his own air now. He really sucks at this crying shit.

“Derek-“

He sniffs, a loud wet one, and it’s downright disgusting since Scott can practically imagine how Derek’s throat is working out the mucus-filled cavities of his supernatural olfaction. It sounds as if Derek is prepping a rather large spitball. It makes Scott shudder. Derek stops crying at least. He is still shuddering though, all fetus-like on Stiles’ couch. Scott now decides to remember why he’s here in the first place. “Derek I’m sorry but-“

The front door slams open with a slightly disheveled Dr. Deaton, right arm gripped tight by Stiles, who looked like he just ran a marathon. Scott snaps his head to them, eyes wider than the time he witnessed Derek’s sudden breakdown, confusion melding into, well, more confusion. “Scott! The hell man, what are you doing?!” Stiles barks at him, still a bit winded, dragging a rather reluctant Alan Deaton into his house.

“Stiles! I was just, dude, I got your text and I went here as fast as I could and then Derek was here and he just-“

Stiles just barrels his way in, hand signaling Scott to stop, his eyes flicking crazily between Derek, him, and Deaton. “Okay, okay, man, we’re here now, just, dude, Doc, look at him!” Stiles is suddenly flailing, gesticulating wildly at Derek who is still trying to get the snot out of his face. Who is still shuddering. “It was a curse!”

Scott is gaping again. Deaton is staring at Derek. “Was he crying?”

“Yes! Like I said, I got Stiles’ text and I went here and then Derek was here and he just-“

“Not the point right now!” Stiles is practically screeching, hovering over Derek’s prone form, arms still trying to make Deaton and Scott understand. “It was a curse!”

Deaton slowly looks at Stiles. “A curse.”

Scott nods to follow.

Stiles screeches a yes, hands shooting to touch the alpha until he lets out a whimper and Stiles just stops, freaked out. “Doc!”

Scott looks at Derek again, then at Stiles, then at Deaton. “Doc, please-“

Derek lets out a sob. Deaton flinches. He _flinches_. “Okay.”

-

It was Scott’s fault.

Okay, not all of it, technically. Derek’s been through a ton of shit the past few months and apparently, having to deal with all of that and just repressing it- it’s not good. Not at all. It wasn’t a curse though which makes everyone breathe easier since having the presence of the alpha pack hovering over their heads is enough bullshit to think about. Adding a witch, warlock, or some curse-happy magical being to the list is a definite no-no. So when Scott came barreling through Stiles’ house after Stiles texted him that Derek texted Stiles that Derek is at the Stilinskis, well, Scott’s mug is enough to send Derek over the edge.

It was ugly.

Scott didn’t even give Derek a chance to say anything before exclaiming a rather rude _what the fuck are you doing in my friend’s house_. Derek just looked dumbstruck. And then he broke.

After Scott recounted to Deaton what happened, the vet sighed, gave Derek a pack of tissues, and left.

Stiles is displeased. Scott is sheepish. The sheriff arrives and stares at the three of them before dragging out contraband ice cream from the freezer.

He gives Derek a spoon. 


End file.
